


Charcoal Heart

by acalmingcupoftea



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acalmingcupoftea/pseuds/acalmingcupoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy's inner monologue of meeting the Bennet family at the Gibson wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charcoal Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blithers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithers/gifts).



> Thanks to my dear pal specialrhino for betaing! <3

William Darcy had not been expecting much from this wedding. He didn’t really expect  
much from any wedding to be honest. He found them to be superfluous affairs packaged by  
greeting card companies and a multi-million dollar cake, dress and flower industry to  
deceive young unsuspecting couples into thinking they must spend thousands of dollars to  
simply say the phrase “I do.” And then one must invite every relative under the sun, any  
person they had met, no matter how briefly, in an attempt to not “offend anyone” and  
ensure that the “special day” went off without a hitch.

Suffice it to say, William Darcy was not a fan of weddings.

But Bing was his best friend and had kindly allowed him to stay indefinitely at his new home  
so he felt attending a family friend’s wedding was the least he could do. As they had left the  
house to go to the event, Bing had said jokingly that maybe this was Darcy’s chance to  
finally meet a woman who made him smile – dating and relationships had never been much  
of a priority for Darcy.

After the ceremony, which Darcy had found acceptable but a bit cliché (doves, really?), was  
a surprisingly low-key reception. Caroline had, of course, denounced the decor as being  
rather bland with barely a splash of color and the theme (some sort of woodland motif) as  
unoriginal at best. He let Caroline babble on as he followed Bing’s eyes across the table-  
dotted garden to a group of women --- three redheads who appeared to be sisters, and one  
blacked-hair woman.

Only one of the women, the tallest redhead, was facing them. Her longish tresses were half  
pulled back and coiled at the base of her neck. The dress she wore was a sharp shade of  
green and looked as if it had come from the 1940s. Her red lips parted into a most  
becoming smile as one of the women (the darkest red head?) said something that must  
have been a joke. He watched Bing out of the corner of his eye as he began to drift over to  
the group, and feeling protective of his friend, Darcy followed.

Bing and Darcy had been friends for many years ever since they had first met in fencing  
club their freshman year of high school. Many people had a difficult time believing they  
were friends, as Bing was so friendly and outgoing while Darcy was...not. Still the friendship  
had persisted, even though they were quite different. Darcy enjoyed the refreshing  
optimism that encompassed Bing’s world view and he felt that his focus and practicality  
helped bring balance to Bing’s occasional naivety. Such as believing he could find “true  
love” at an overpriced garden party.

As they approached, the tall redhead drew the group’s attention to them. They all turned to  
look at them, mid-laugh, eyes glistening with mirth. Darcy was surprised at how beautiful he  
found the dark redhead to be. Of course Darcy could appreciate a person with a lovely face  
but there was something about this woman’s beauty that was different, that made him feel  
different. Maybe it was the way she held herself, like she knew she was pretty but she didn’t  
really see what all the fuss was about. Or maybe it was in the way that her beauty felt  
genuine, not something hastily put together for a magazine spread.

“Hello,” the green-dressed woman started, “I’m Jane Bennet and these are my sisters,  
Lizzie,” she gestured to the dark red-haired woman who put up her hand in greeting.

“Lydia,” the smallest redhead flashed a grin in their direction

“-and finally our family friend, Charlotte Lucas,” the dark haired woman inclined her head  
slightly.

Darcy noted that Bing’s eyes had flitted from the oldest Bennet for only a brief moment as  
she made the introductions. He was inwardly amused at how quickly and how deeply his  
dear friend had become infatuated with this woman.

“That’s great! I’m Bing Lee, I just moved in down the street and this is my good friend,  
William Darcy. It’s nice to meet all of you.” Bing said, smiling mildly at Jane while gesturing  
to himself and Darcy, who gave a stiff nod at the mention of his name.  
As Bing began to exchange the usual small talk and pleasantries with the Bennets, Darcy  
quickly began to make appraisals of the women in front of him.

Jane Bennet seemed a pleasant enough sort of woman. It appeared to Darcy that she was  
one of those women who would go out of her way to avoid stepping on a bug or to pick up  
someone else’s litter. The scent of fresh bake cookies was masked under the scent of her  
dull perfume. From the tone of her voice and inability to look Bing straight in the eye, she  
seemed to be quite smitten with Bing.

Charlotte Lu, dressed in a simple dark dress with little make-up or accessories, seemed  
the type of woman who did not care for such “girly” things. Being at the wedding seemed to  
make her a bit antsy, not because she found them boring as Darcy did, but because she  
would much rather be doing something else. What that was Darcy couldn’t say from the  
looks of her, but she seemed very focused on it.

The youngest Bennet sister, Lydia, lacked depth, he felt. She seemed to be exactly as she  
was inside as she was on her outside, all of her thoughts evident across her face. Darcy  
was begrudgingly a bit envious of her ability to be so open about her feelings. A girl who  
loved a good time, one that involved alcohol no doubt, and keeping with the latest trends,  
Lydia was dressed in a slightly revealing short, tight, sparkly gold dress. He could tell she  
was one that liked to stand out in a crowd and the decibel levels that her voice reached was  
rather surprising to him.

With that decision made. Darcy turned to the middle Bennet sister, Lizzie, short for  
Elizabeth, no doubt. While she wasn’t as classically beautiful as her elder sister, Darcy  
couldn’t help noticing his attraction to her. Her dress, a simple navy blue was not as  
revealing as her younger sister’s, but was certainly very flattering upon her figure. As she  
watched Jane and Bing interact, he could see a glimmer in her eyes of happiness. Her blue  
eyes were the color of a calming stream and Darcy wanted to lose himself in them for hours  
if only she would look his way.

At that point, he felt the small smile playing across his lips. He quickly set his lips into their  
usual line of disinterest and returned his thoughts from the higher qualities of Lizzie’s  
features.

“...Tolstoy is simply one of the greatest writers of the 19th century. The way that man crafts  
words could melt any woman’s heart.” Lizzie said, her passion for the subject obvious in her  
voice and waving gestures.

“Ugh, _come on_ Lizzie! Nobody wants to talk about _Tolstoy_ at a wedding. They want to party!  
And who _always_ knows how to have a good time? The Ly-dee-ah!” Lydia said as she did a  
strange body roll before grabbing Charlotte’s hand and exclaiming, “To the dance floor,  
people!”

Bing, who had been speaking with Jane almost exclusively once Lizzie had been  
successfully distracted by Tolstoy, bashfully extended her his hand and asked, “May I have  
this dance?” He could see Jane blush slightly as she placed her hand in his and let him  
guide her to the floor.

Lizzie looked over at Darcy and smiled, her thumbs gesturing to the dance floor as she  
said, “Sooo, Darcy. Wanna dance?”

Darcy grimaced at the suggestion. Dancing was one of the few things he enjoyed less than  
weddings and the idea of dancing with this woman --- this beautiful, intelligent woman was  
more than he could bear.

“No. Thank you.” He said after what felt like an eternity. Lizzie’s smile vanished and was  
replaced with a look of light puzzlement, as if she had never met someone who didn’t enjoy  
throwing themselves about a dance floor.

“Ok, well, see you later then.” She said and turned around abruptly to walk out into the  
throng of people moving to the beat of Duran Duran’s “Hungry like the Wolf.”

Darcy let out a sigh, realizing he had been holding his breath for most of the encounter. He  
could feel his heart beating a little faster and his mind was racing with ways he could have  
conducted that conversation differently, trying to find an outcome that didn’t require him to  
dance and didn’t have her leaving with a frown.

He ran his hand through his short-cropped hair and shook his head, inwardly berating  
himself. It really wouldn’t have been that hard for him to say yes, to move about the floor to  
this atrocious music if it would have made her happy. He sat down at a nearby table  
through the next few songs, trying to muster up the courage to ask Lizzie for a dance as  
well as mustering up the courage to actually dance.

He felt like he was almost ready to give it a go when the DJ’s voice blared out of the  
speakers, “Alright ladies and gentleman, can I get all the _single ladies_ to come to the center  
of the dance floor! It’s time for the bouquet toss!”

Darcy could hear Lydia’s squeal of excitement from across the dance floor and over the  
music the DJ was playing in the interim. The bride went to the center of the floor and the  
women formed a small pack in front of her. Darcy noted that Lizzie had been practically  
pushed onto the floor and into the foray by her mother.

“Alright ladies! Here. We. Go!” And with the final word from the DJ, the bride tossed her  
bouquet in a small arc over the various women trying to make a grab for it, only for the  
bunch of flowers to land practically in the face of one Miss Lizzie Bennet.

“Congratulations! Thank you so much for your participation ladies! Now will all the single  
gentlemen come out to the dance floor! The garter toss is next!” The DJ said as the women  
slowly started to abandon the floor.

Darcy had absolutely no intention of participating in such a silly and pointless exercise, but  
he could already see Bing making a beeline for him. To avoid a scene Darcy begrudgingly  
removed himself from his chair and onto the outskirts of the group of men.

The groom was already under his wife’s dress removing the garter apparently with his  
teeth. When he emerged, the blue object in his mouth, Darcy couldn’t help but be  
less than enthused. The groom gave a small shout before tossing the garter into the throng.

The garter sailed over the sea of hands grasping for it and hit Darcy square in the chest. He  
held out his hand to catch it as it fell, not really sure what to do with it.

“Alright! Ladies and gentleman we have a winner! Better luck next time, gents. Will the fine  
young lady who caught the bouquet please come up to the front and claim her dance  
partner? It’s time for slow jam,” the DJ said.

Bing swept by and winked at Darcy as he whisked the garter out of his hands. Lizzie came  
up to him, a small grin pasted on her face, as well as a slight look of annoyance. This was  
the worst moment that Darcy had ever experienced. Not only did he have to dance, he had  
to dance with Lizzie, a woman who his heart and mind couldn’t quite agree about, to a _slow_  
 _song_.

He took her hands in his, trying to keep them calm and willing his palms to not be sweaty.  
Outside of a few ballroom dancing classes Darcy had attended as a child, he really had no  
idea how to dance slowly with someone. Most of the couples seemed to be standing close  
together, swaying slowly on the floor. So Darcy began to sway, the stiffness in his  
movements apparent to himself and Lizzie.

After a few moments, Lizzie asked, “So, do you like it here in town?”

Not feeling the need to hide his true emotions, Darcy responded, “Not especially.”

Obviously expecting a more elaborate answer, Lizzie waited a few moments. When he was  
not more forthcoming, she said, “Do you enjoy dancing?”

“Not if I can help it,” he replied trying to keep his sentences short and declarative in an  
attempt to not say the wrong thing (it didn’t appear to be working well). With yet another tort  
response on his part, Lizzie seemed to not feel the need to keep the conversation going.  
Darcy was acutely aware of how soft Lizzie’s skin was in his hands. How slightly awkward  
he felt wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand on the small of her back touching the  
soft fabric of her dress.

But underneath his uncomfortableness of the moment, he could also feel something else.  
His heart was beating a bit faster. His eyes were darting around her face, trying to  
document all of her features. He noticed the slight flowery scent of her perfume, the  
sparkling earrings dangling from her curved ears.

The song came to an end and not knowing what else to say Darcy mumbled a “thank you”

as their hands dropped. He swiftly exited the dance floor and went to stand outside of the  
tent that encased the dance floor and tables. He took a deep breath and tried not to think  
about what had just happened or Lizzie.

“Hey there, buddy! How was it? Lizzie’s pretty cute right? I saw how you were looking at her  
in there.” Bing said as he came over to him, a picture of cheerfulness and youthful energy.  
“I could probably put in a good word for you with Jane if you want. You should totally dance  
with her again!” He continued, eyes dancing with amusement.

It’s not that Darcy didn’t trust Bing, he just didn’t want to talk about this now or here out in  
the open where anyone could overhear them. He also needed time to think about his feelings,  
what they actually were and what they meant, before he even tried to discuss the matter  
with Bing (if he ever did). All he could think to do was deflect and deflect hard.

“You’re dancing with the only tolerable girl in the room so stop wasting your time with me.  
Sure, Lizzie is decent enough but why would I continue to dance with her when no one else  
does?” Darcy said quickly.

Bing gave Darcy a knowing look and said, “Alright man, whatever you say. I’ll catch up with  
you and Caroline afterwards, ok?” With that he turned on his heel and went back into the  
tent.

Darcy let out yet another sigh and glanced up at the stars. He could tell that causally  
interacting with Lizzie was not going to work for him. He could barely string two sentences  
together around her, let alone develop or propose topics of conversation. No, he must be  
prepared for next time.

“I’m going to have to read some Tolstoy.” He said quietly to himself, as went back into the  
tent to watch Lizzie dance the rest of the night away.


End file.
